


Realm of Narration

by Glitched_Fox



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine, Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 21:26:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17231486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitched_Fox/pseuds/Glitched_Fox
Summary: Come with me,And you'll be,In a world of pure imagination,------Sammy and Norman are Narrators, tasked to tell stories using whoever stumbles into their pocket dimension. To be quite honest, they're pretty excited about their newest project.Then someone goes off-script.





	Realm of Narration

_ “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”  _

_ “If I were to take a guess, I’d say it’s some guests!” _

Sammy mock-gasped, wrapping his mic cord around his hand.  _ “Guests? In our little pocket dimension? But we’re hardly prepared!” _

Norman turned on his heel, grabbing Sammy’s mic cord to drag him to the other side of the stage.  _ “Maybe not, but we have plenty of stories we could weave. What kind of Narrators would we be if we couldn’t improvise?” _

_ “Ones that need a little practice, I’d say!” _ Sammy flashed a smile to the invisible audience, then tilted his mic away to mutter to Norman, _ “Something’s off about this run.” _

Norman mimicked him.  _ “The cast or the audience? ‘Cause you better not be implying something else.” _

Sammy shrugged, tugging on an overall strap.  _ “Dunno. This feels weird.” _

Norman quirked an eyebrow, then turned back to the front of the stage, raising his mic to speak into again.  _ “Oh, but, why would someone dare to enter this realm of ours?”  _ He let suspense build as he slowly walked to center stage, mic cord twisting around his arm like a snake. 

Sammy played off it, remaining where he was standing.  _ “Dear partner, are you saying..?” _

_ “Could it be that they don’t know the horrors that await them?” _ He tapped his mic, letting static cover part of his words. _ “The betrayals, the twists, the emotions-” _

Sammy approached at this point, slinging an arm over Norman’s shoulders. _ “In any case, they’re about to find out.” _

The curtain behind them rose and the darted off-stage, letting the universe shift around them until they were in their little booths above either side of the room. The stage disappeared, the room fading into a mansion of sorts. Norman shot Sammy a look. He simply shrugged, mouthing, ‘it’s a classic.’

Norman leaned into his mic.  _ “Let’s meet the cast, shall we?” _ And the door swung open.

In stepped a young boy, dressed in green with red lock of hair peeking out from under his cap. He clutched the strap of a messenger bag as he looked around, expression somewhere between confused, scared, and curious.

_ “Wallace Franks,” _ Sammy began, reading off a packet that had appeared in his hand.  _ “Just a young messenger boy from Mytholia- Mytholia! When was the last time we saw someone from there, Norman?" _

_ “He certainly doesn’t look a myth,”  _ Norman joked. _ “Maybe just ‘lia.’” _

Sammy laughed.  _ “Well, in any case, Wally here appears to be lost, don’t you think?” _

_ “He is just a kid.”  _ He made a show of looking around.  _ “Where ever could his parents be?” _

_ “On vacation, perhaps.” _

_ “Crummy parents they are.” _

_ “Alas, we’re just humble Narrators. Nothing can be done.” _

_ “You’re getting off-track.” _

_ “You started it.” _

The door opened again, and Wally turned. Norman took up narration this time, barely glancing at the papers in his hand.  _ “Well, here comes a friend for our lonely little boy- if he decides to be nice for once in his life.” _

_ “Just read the damn bio.” _

Norman rolled his eyes. _ “Grant Cohen! An accountant, tax collector, math teacher- you name it; as long as it involves numbers, he’s your guy.” He paused, flipping through the pages. “Ooh, seems he’s got connections with someone else it the cast. Tasty.” _

_ “Hey! No spoilers." _

_ “Bite me.” _

Sammy coughed. _ “So, where’s Grant from?” _

_ “He’s a Synth, of course! No one besides a robot could be that boring.” _ _  
_

The door swung open again, more enthusiastically than before.

_ “Thomas Connor-” _

_ “-and Murray Hill.” _

_ “Twins.” _

_ “Mechanics.” _

_ “While their origin is unclear, they spend most of their time in the Hub, doing simple jobs for passing dimension-hoppers.” _

_ “Perhaps they’re from Storichi?” _

Sammy shrugged. _ “Who knows! If they have any magic, they’re doing a damn good job of hiding it.” _

Once again, the door clicked open. Norman sighed, rifling through his papers.  _ “I’m getting bored, so I’m sure you all are too. Lightning round?” _

_ “Lightning round.” _

_ “Henry Drew, Susie Campbell, and Linda Stein. All from Xtria. All related, despite the last names.” _

_ “Joey Drew, an eccentric Artist from Creativeil with a specialty in animation and… character creation.” _

_ “Allison Pendle and Bertrum Piedmont- not related at all, just both from Flunan. A bluejay and a woodpecker- sorry, a red-cockaded woodpecker. Cause he’s a-” _

“ _ Norman!” _

Norman breaks into a coughing fit. 

Sammy rolls his eyes.  _ “...Anyway. Shawn Flynn from Magicara. I think he’s a fae of some sort. It’s not clear.” _

_ “And finally: Jack Fain, a young Musician-Writer Cross from Creativeil. Specialty in lyrical work and composing in general.”  _

_ “Y’know, I’ve always found Creators interesting,” Sammy mused, leaning on the railing. “I think being a Musician would be fun.” _

_ “If you think about it enough, Narrators are just an offshoot of Creators.” _

_ “I can still find our cousins’ culture interesting.” _

_ “Fair enough.” _

_ “So!” _ Sammy raised his mic, jumping right back into his narration. _ “The cast is complete! Everyone’s here now… remember folks, they can’t hear us and they can’t hear  _ **_you_ ** _. But don’t worry; we still won’t spoil anything for you. _

_ “The first phase of the story is complete. Our diverse cast is gathered, questioning how they ended up here. Maybe they’ll make friends with each other. Maybe they’ll become enemies. We will find out soon enough. And why is it that they’re in this mansion? I wonder what could be awaiting th-” _

The door clicked open, and both Narrators froze. Sammy began rifling through his packet, then shot Norman a panicked look. He muted his mic, knowing full well Norman could still hear him.  _ “No one else is supposed to show up!” _ _  
_

_ “Dammit! Who’s breaking the script?” _

A dark-skinned woman stepped through the door, brushing her hair out of her face as she looked around with golden eyes.

_ “Oh no.” _

Sammy looked up from the script.  _ “What’s- oh  _ **_god_ ** _.” _

The woman held a microphone, one that perfectly matched Norman’s. The cord wrapped around her arm and disappeared into her shirt, as if it was part of her. Sammy rubbed the cord of his own mic self-consciously. She pushed past the small crowd easily, and looked up, directly at the Narrator’s booths.

Shakily, Norman flicked his mic on.  _ “In a turn of events, it seems we have an extra cast member. Folks, this is Lacie Benton.” _

Sammy turned his mic back on, ignoring the uneasy feeling growing in his chest as Lacie watched him.  _ “I wonder what can occur from having a Narrator  _ **_in_ ** _ the story! Especially one we know so well!”  _ He shot a pointed look at Norman. Norman ignored him.

_ “I guess we’ll find out soon... dO NOT TURN YOUR MIC ON I’LL KILL YOU- I WILL  _ **_NARRATE_ ** _ YOU A DEATH-” _

And the curtain dropped. 

[End scene.]


End file.
